by Tomson Cobb
‘Sure. Just tell me what I have to say. Can we talk some business now? My type of business.’
The sky had darkened by the time Jago drove out of the CUP car park and turned right towards the town centre. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so engrossed in the previous four hours of discussion, he might have been more attentive and noticed the grey Jaguar with blacked-out windows parked on the grass verge between two others at the top of the lane.
With Hale’s departure, Anastasia now felt able to check the quality of the hundreds of images she’d taken that day without her attention being deflected from the building down the road. In the car, she deleted several that would be of no use to her employer, then unscrewed the telephoto lens from the large Nikon and replaced them both in the case on the passenger seat. The file she’d been provided with had been adequate, yet she always liked to create her own store of information for insurance. The knowledge she’d gained from the chat with the receptionist earlier that afternoon had been particularly useful. The smile on her face grew wider as she wondered how long it would be before anyone in CUP would think to check their own CCTV system.
This contract was proving to be more intriguing than she’d expected.
Chapter 15
Trips or holidays that involved transatlantic flights would never be part of Jago’s personal bucket list, even if he had one. As well as the thought that it was the worst route for jet lag, it also meant a long delay with the certainty of the crass, aggressive welcome always provided by the US Customs and Border Protection Officers. As a first impression of the country to those virgin visitors who hadn’t had the pleasure before, it was never what he would call an arms-open welcome to the land of the free. He promised himself that this time he would be at his most servile and bite his lip before he offered his replies to the expected inquisition. He didn’t want to spend a night in the cells at Dulles like a tired friend had when, after a long flight, he’d made a flippant remark to the sour-faced woman who’d posed her long list of unnecessary questions.
He was right to be prepared. After the eight-hour flight, it took another two hours and thirty-five minutes in the line before he arrived at the immigration desk. It was therefore with some amazement on his part that he was waved through with just a brief moment of delay while the agent checked his computer screen. The guy even included a smile. He wondered if Shapiro had pulled any strings.
‘Hi Mr Thomas. I’m Larry.’ The slim dark-suited driver stood at the end of the funnel of passengers in the arrivals hall as Jago emerged from the customs area. He took control of Jago’s case and then remained silent as he led him to the car park. When they were safely in the car, he opened up.
‘Welcome to Washington, Mr Hale. My name’s Joe Sanchez. I work for Tony Shapiro so I’ll be at your service while you’re here in DC. Just let me know if there’s anything you need or anywhere you want to go.’
‘Good to meet you. Please, call me Jago. I hate Mister. Can I call you just Joe in return?’
‘Just Joe. I like that. It’s now my new nickname.’ It broke the ice.
‘Well, Just Joe, where are we off to now?’
‘We’ve got you a safe house. Not fancy but quiet. It’s a small apartment in Forest Hills.’
‘Van Ness?’
‘Yes. You know the area then?’ Sanchez sounded surprised.
‘Sure. I did a semester here at the university when I finished college in England.’
‘I didn’t know that. You were at Cambridge weren’t you, Jago?’
‘I see you’ve done your homework on me, Just Joe. Yeah. In fact I had a great time here. I was younger then of course. Met a very beautiful lady who was in the same class as me. We spent a lot of time together, then she dumped me for another English guy who worked for the New York Port Authority. They had a nice house, a business and three kids before she died after a short illness a few years ago.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. We parted on good terms. He was right for her, I wasn’t. I got on well with him as well when I got to know him a little, but she couldn’t have put up with my kind of life. We both knew that, although it was fun while it lasted. We kept in touch for years after we split.’
Joe went quiet. He sensed Jago starting to recall those still somewhat painful personal memories from long ago, so he concentrated on the traffic instead. The amount of traffic on the road was a lot more than the last time Jago had visited. As it was the capital, the proliferation of large black executive vehicles with blacked-out windows was noticeable. To get his mind back into the present, Jago started to sing a Grace Jones song which Joe joined on the chorus.
By the time Joe pulled up outside the brownstone, or red Seneca sandstone to be precise, Jago had still found that other memories had forced their way into his present from his past life here with Anne. The big battered Chevy estate that she used to drive. The terrible handwritten letters. The shared sense of humour. Good times. Would he ever experience those types of innocent enjoyment again, he wondered?
Shapiro was already inside the basement apartment when Joe unlocked the door and set the suitcase down in the hallway. His host was chewing gum for the first time, Jago noticed.
‘Welcome to my hometown, Jago. Hope you had a good flight.’
‘Not too bad, if you enjoy incarceration for eight hours in an aluminium can,’ Jago said as they bumped knuckles. ‘I still hope that the brave new world of artificial intelligence will announce a Star Trek transporter room before too long. Preferably next week. That would save a lot of hassle, and sleep.’ The door closed behind him as Joe made his exit with a good-humoured wave.
‘That would sure make my work easier as well. Hey. You okay to talk war now, or has the jet lag taken over?’ said Shapiro.
‘No. I’m fine for a while. I’ll stick it out as long as I can. Try to make it through to tonight before I hit the sack. That’s what aircrew do on the east–west route across the pond.’
‘Good. Take a seat. Coffee or beer?’ Shapiro turned towards the kitchen. ‘Joe stocked the refrigerator to suit all needs.’
‘Beer for me, Tony. Had too many coffees on the plane. Don’t let me close my eyes just yet though.’ Jago flopped into the large comfortable settee as Shapiro already had his jacket on one of the high-backs.
Shapiro put four bottles together with a bowl of pretzels onto the glass table then took one of the other chairs. Jago passed on to Shapiro the information he’d received from Nik on the assassin.
‘That’s very useful. I’ll take that away and do my own checks now. She might be the answer to some unexplained deaths we’ve been working on here.’
‘I’ll update you if I hear any more on her from GCHQ. What about your story?’
‘Okay. Here’s my deal. Tomorrow you have an appointment with our new presidential candidate. I guess you’ve done your own research on the guy since I briefed you in London? You said he was pleased when you got in touch with him?’
‘Yeah. That surprised me. If this guy is supported by the Organisation as you think, he must also know about my part in Chomsky’s death,’ Jago said.
‘Only that you were working on a story about him. Sure, they wanted to paint you as the killer of him and Tomochika with the help of the UK government, but that doesn’t mean they believe you work for them, not yet anyways. Besides, after you and Yamada cornered him and his bodyguard wasted him, his plane took off. By the time it exploded over the Sea of Japan the pilot hadn’t made any communications with anyone, so I don’t think they even know you guys were at the airport.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Sure. When the Japanese intelligence people arrived at the airfield, they kept you and Yamada out of the story so the press didn’t pick up on the fact that you were there before the police,’ Joe said.
‘You believe the Organisation thinks I was only in Japan because of a piece I was working on about Chomsky, rather than them?’
‘That’s what Langley thinks. Toye as well. I
have to agree, for the moment, unless we learn otherwise. How do you see it, Jago?’
‘I go along with some of that, though only up to a point. Follow me here. As I see it, the mole in the UK was the same guy who ran Chomsky. He set up the plan to embarrass the UK government by framing me for Tomochika’s murder, then aimed to get rid of Chomsky when I got to Japan.’
‘So you think they’d planned to get you involved all along?’
‘Yep. I was supposed to investigate Volkov’s murder at his house in England which would then lead me to Chomsky. He knew I’d follow him to Tokyo where the plan was to set me up as the killer, supported by the UK government. So far, so good.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I go with the story for now that the traitor lured me into the operation, then watched how I worked. He saw I went to see Yuber because he’d already ordered Chomsky to get his Estonian team to check out my place. The idea was that I wouldn’t know they’d been inside the house but the CCTV system that Frankie had installed told us otherwise. He also ordered Chomsky to get Petrov and his boys to check out Sammy while I was in Cyprus to meet Yuber. That went wrong. His orders were only for Petrov to get information, not to kill Sam.’
‘Okay. I follow that. So?’ said Shapiro. He took a gulp from his bottle, the gum in his mouth temporarily inert.
‘So, he didn’t know that Chomsky had his little side deal on the go with Volkov and Tomochika. When Chomsky put his own personal contract on me with the guys in Cyprus, then the one in Hong Kong, he must have started to check out his own man. This guy is not stupid.’ Jago took a swig from his own bottle.
‘Okay. Let’s say I go along with that. Whaddya reckon happened next?’
‘I think he planned to take out Chomsky whatever happened in Japan. He’d decided the greedy little bastard was too much of a liability. He hoped that somehow the plan to involve the UK government would work. If it all went wrong out there because of me, he’d already arranged for the bomb on the plane, and for the bodyguard to kill Chomsky as a backup if they didn’t make it onto the aircraft. That’s what happened. Then he would have read the story that Yamada and I concocted for the media. ’
‘So where’s the problem?’ Tony sat back, still chewing his gum with the newfound enthusiasm of a recently converted non-smoker.
‘I don’t think he believed the story entirely. He had doubts, which is why he booked La Polpo to find out from Tom Bryan what he really knew, then Frank as well.’
‘You mean he knows about CUP?’
‘Maybe not before, but sure as hell he does now. I think the stuff she injected into Bryan, Frank and Yamada was a truth drug. It’s probable that it’s the same stuff that Petrov used on my accountant, then tried to use on Sammy. I guess by now he has enough knowledge of the other side of Chiltern University Press to realise it’s a front for covert activities.’
‘Shit. I’d hoped it might be that it was just a reprisal against you, your wife and friends after their African deal was blown.’
‘No way. The fact that the same woman is involved in all four hits negates that theory. He could have used an inside team for that type of simple murder. No, the traitor now knows about the existence of the other side of CUP. That I’m sure of.’
‘So they’re blown, you think?’
‘Maybe not. Bryan or Frank wouldn’t have been able to give details of their agents in the short time the woman had to question them while they were under the drug’s influence. Haber told me that it’s only active for minutes, then the subject is at risk of death if the interrogator tries for too much. Looks like it’s what happened to them both.’
‘Which means?’ Shapiro said.
‘It means that if we’re lucky, the traitor knows about the existence of CUP without the details. If I’m right, he’s now wondering how to find out more.’
‘You keep saying “he” rather than “they”. Why’s that?’
‘That’s a good question. It’s one I haven’t got the answer for. I just get the impression that most of these events are down to one man’s decisions rather than by the board of Chetwynd. Why, though, I have no idea.’
‘Do CUP know yet? Have you told them?’
‘No. I’ve put this together on the flight over. I may be wrong of course. My gut tells me not. I’m not sure whether to call Hugh later though, to put him in the picture. He’ll have to get Bonner to let the PM know of course, then the excrement will hit the fan so I’m still wondering what to do.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me and Simon when you first guessed all this? It couldn’t have been just today on the plane.’
‘I figured the story didn’t stack up earlier than that, or maybe I didn’t want it to. Apart from what Haber told me, I didn’t know who this traitor was or where he works in government. I still don’t. Only that it’s high up. Then Toye enticed me in from the cold and introduced me to you, someone I’d never met before. It’s the old adage in any business, Tony: trust no one. You must know that in your job, whatever it is.’ Jago smiled.
‘Sure. Sure. Okay. I see now why you didn’t want to share your suspicions with anybody. I get that. So let me see if I’ve got this right. The guy suspected somehow that Volkov was about to be turned by the Brits so he ordered Chomsky to waste him, then use his death as bait for you to follow him, backed up by UK intelligence, as he knew that they’d have to investigate?’
‘Yeah. He set up Chomsky for the bomb on the plane whether he was successful or not. My guess is that the Japanese operation to embarrass the UK government had been planned well before all this, so he decided it was a double opportunity to clean up the internal mess that Chetwynd had with Volkov and Chomsky as well. Tomochika was by then also on his to-do list so he saw he could get rid of him at the same time then blame the Brits.’
‘Clever.’
‘Very. The complications started when I didn’t do what he expected me to, so he had to adapt. He already had questions on his mind. That’s what led to the break-in to my place and Sammy’s death. They were both just to get information, not to kill. I don’t think he knew about Sam’s background, so when the Estonians botched the job and reported back to Chomsky about my involvement while they were there, he guessed that I was maybe more than just a nosy reporter. With my work as an investigative journalist he must have worked out that I was an agent. That led him to look more at Frank, then from him to CUP.’
‘This is too much information for a dumbass like me. I gotta take a leak.’ Shapiro heaved his large frame from the comfort of the chair to walk to the bathroom. Jago closed his eyes. The jet lag had started to take effect but he knew he had to stay conscious for a while longer.
Shapiro strode back into the living room, his eye movements hyperactive as he considered the various options that led from Jago’s interpretation of recent events.
‘Jago, you’ve said many times “he” rather than “they”. You think this one guy calls all the shots in Chetwynd?’ Shapiro said as he sat to tear the wrapper off another piece of nicotine gum.
‘That’s the bit I’m not sure of yet. As I said, I couldn’t work out why the traitor wouldn’t use another inside team like the Estonians on Tom, Frank and Hiro. Chetwynd must have enough trained killers in the organisation to be able to eliminate all three with the people at their disposal, so why use a freelance assassin? It’s puzzled me for the whole flight today.’
‘Hmm. Maybe the Organisation’s decided they can’t take the risk of having more of their operatives exposed?’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not.’ Jago closed his eyes again. Tony had put another thought into his mind but he needed to sleep on it before he could discuss it further with him. He was aware of the risk of sending his newfound ally down the wrong street without some form of confirmation first.
‘That’s enough about my theories for now, so what about your side of the story, Tony?’
‘Okay. Like I said, I share your reservations about who to trust. I was chosen to run this operation two
years ago. I could use resources from Langley or the FBI, though the team I was allowed to put together would still have to be vetted by the top brass.’
‘That must have put a few noses out of joint. You being allowed to work independently, I mean,’ Jago said.
‘It sure did. We would report directly to the White House and liaise with friendlies like Five Eyes and others. That didn’t make the other agencies too happy, I can tell you. As you know, Jago, we have quite a few of them here in the grand old US of A. Sixteen in fact. Seventeen if you count the administrative office that coordinates them all. Each of them believe they have the ultimate knowhow to counteract this type of organisation.’
‘So somebody decided different. Why was that?’
‘Like the Brits, the other agencies, the FBI in particular, had identified the activities of Chetwynd here in the States some time ago. They’d found links to all the same elements that your guys found in the UK. Organised crime, mafia, narcos with links to big businesses, corporate CEOs, banks, military personnel and of course, politicians. Like you they started to put a chart together of who was linked to who.’
‘What was wrong with that?’
‘Nothing. Except the evidence they’d put together started to appear in places it shouldn’t have. Files were left on subway trains, laptops were stolen from offices, cabs or airports together with cell phones. Information that had taken months to accumulate disappeared overnight then some of it was leaked to the media.’
‘You mean it was deliberate?’
‘Right. Somehow the Organisation knew who the agents were so they targeted them. Not just that, a few months ago news agencies started to receive stories on US government departments that shouldn’t have been in the public domain. Someone had gotten hold of the FBI evidence. They started to use it against us. An insider. Maybe more than one.’
‘So you have the same problem as we do. You have people that work for the other side. This was why you’ve been seconded to Toye in London?’
